


When Morning Comes

by ClaraxBarton



Series: Kinktober2019 [1]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Sitting, Kink, Kinktober, No underage, Possessive Natasha Romanov, Red Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: They had known each other, and they had lost each other, but Bucky had always been hers.--Or: the least smutty Kinktober thing ever written, probably.For October 1st: Face-Sitting





	When Morning Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvsanime02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsanime02/gifts).

> For Ro.  
Listen, I apologize because this... this is all feelings and practically no sex and I didn't mean for it to happen it just DID and... this is me.
> 
> NOW beta read by the amazing Ro!  
(I feel like you are a circus performer - the Amazing Ro! Tamer of Grammar and Errant Writers!)

  
  
  
  


“James.”

The way she said his name - the depth and complexity of emotion she managed to shape into that one word - always stunned him.

It wasn’t just that she had known him longer than almost anyone else - longer than  _ anyone _ else except for Steve. Steve did a damn good job squeezing all of their twisted past and present into  _ Bucky _ . 

But with her, it was different. 

_ They _ were different - even though, on some level, they were all the same.

Bucky had met Steve when they were both kids, when Steve was getting the shit kicked out of him by older kids and Steve, small and physically weak, just took it and kept fighting back, fighting for what he believed in so hard that Bucky had had to step in and protect him.

With her, though… Well. She had been small - still was, unlike Steve. But she had been a graduate of the Red Room’s _training_ _program_ when they first met. Nineteen, and as fierce as Steve ever was. Bucky hadn’t been himself - or, at least, hadn’t been a self he had known, back then. He had been the Soldier, and she had been his partner for a mission. He still, even now, didn’t know which of them had been the handler and which the asset in that situation. 

Time passed, and they spent it together on missions, silent and deadly and efficient and  _ empty _ . They hadn’t put him back in cryo, though. For almost two years, he had worked with her every day, training and killing and  _ living _ , until the day he made the mistake of kissing her when she laughed. After that, they put him back in cryo, and it would be a lifetime before he even remembered her.

But he  _ did _ remember her. 

When they told him to kill the scientist, when they gave him the dossier on the SHIELD agent tasked with extracting him, Bucky - the Soldier - had seen something in her, in the photograph, in the lens of his scope. 

And he hadn’t killed her.

It happened again - he was supposed to kill her  _ again, _ and he couldn’t, hadn’t been able to, though this time it was more through her work than any of his own - and then…

Then he remembered  _ everything _ .

It took time, it took pain, it took so much work.

But one day, he watched her and Clint sparring in the gym, watched her take down the man who was more than twice her size and then perch on his chest in a triumphant sprawl and laugh while he complained.

“Natalia,” Bucky had said, had continued in Russian that felt both clumsy and natural, “what have I told you about playing with your food?”

Clint had frozen, every muscle in his very muscular body going tense, but she…

She had pushed sweaty hair off of her face and given Bucky a brilliant, deadly smile.

“Remind me,” she ordered.

And just like that, just those two words and he was hers once again, and she… she had never been his, not really - not now, even - but she accepted him, she claimed him as hers, and that was enough. That was  _ everything _ .

When Natasha said his name, when she called him James even though everyone else called him Bucky - except for Stark, who called him any manner of things that somehow meant both everything and nothing - it was a reminder of everything he had done to her, and everything she had done for him.

It hollowed him out, made him empty and  _ free _ in a way he couldn’t put into words, couldn’t even dare to think about when she didn’t have him trapped in her clear gaze.

“James,” she said as she tangled her capable hands in his hair and pulled his face down to hers and let him kiss her again.

“James,” she said as she laughed and pushed him down onto his back, and held him still with no more than the sharp curve of her lips.

“James,” she said as she took his clothing off and smoothed over his scarred flesh.

“James,” she said as she straddled his face and gave him her pleasure.

“James,” she said as she pulled him close and curled against him and kept him.

“James,” she said in the morning when he woke up to find her still there.

-o-

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
